The Great War // Sirius Black

Chapter I

There are some moments in your life that you know will change the trajectory of the rest. When everything comes to a head, and the rest of the world explodes around you, the lights of the fire illuminate the rest of the way. Or that's how it's supposed to go, at least. Everything is supposed to fall in front of you neatly, even if a harrowing battle got you there. But life is more chaotic than that—with more dark spots and shadowed alleyways than lustrously lit forests and luminous trails.

But after finding yourself in multiple outages, with nothing but the shadows to keep you company, there comes a time when you realize you have to make the light yourself. You cannot rely on the heat of others to burn your candle—it's the matches of your heart that will guide you. Every upheaval dares to blow you out, to leave nothing but a puddle of wax with a burnt-out wick in its wake. But all wax hardens—and every candle can be born again, like a phoenix born from the ashes.

—

When you fight your entire life for something, and suddenly, it's standing a few feet away from you—how are you supposed to react? Is it supposed to be a joyous occasion? Or is it almost numbing, knowing that all that work was over and everything you had done to reach it no longer mattered? Whether small hurdles jumped around or an endless train of pain and revenge you had walked—what is it supposed to feel like?

Inflicting pain on people because of your own is never justifiable, but it's sometimes the only way people can cope. It's how she did, how Lyra Potter handled the overwhelming grief of losing the love of her life and twin brother on the same day. It's how she coped with the fact her best friends were dead, and she was left with the knowledge that she could have stopped it. So she turned to the worst best friend she had—her abilities. Lyra Potter became a menace for the first two years of being a mother, taking out her anger on those who inflicted it upon her. Death Eaters fell at her feet and pleaded for mercy as she stripped them of that virtue.

But no one suspected the poor girl who had lost everything of committing such violent atrocities, not when she had a newborn baby at home. It was only when the moon returned to her life in full bloom that she found solace in the warmth it brought, no longer letting that frigid storm rule over the vacant terrain of her mind.

However, it all rushed back to her mind when she saw his eyes across the room in the Leaky Cauldron. He had a bright smile, one that was notoriously from his father. His glasses sat askew, and his raven hair was wild and untamed—similar to Annie's, just with less curl and flare. It felt surreal to Lyra, staring at him from afar with her hands entwined with Antares and Remus, respectively. But there he stood, tall and proud with faintly tanned skin and a certain charm that seemed to skip Lyra in her genetics.

"That's him," Annie giggled and tugged at her mother's hand, "You didn't tell me he'd be here!"

"I don't think Mum realized he would be," Remus muttered, his teeth clenched, "C'mon, Annie, let's get your shopping started."

"But—"

"Antares...Don't fight me on this one."

Lyra's hands fell cold as the two lights of her life disappeared. Her gaze never strayed from the figure that was her nephew. She had seen him over the years, through his mind. But never had she been so close to him physically, never noticed the way his jaw ticked or the way he needed to work on his posture. It was surreal, staring at the very thing that Lyra had been fighting for. He stood just a few meters away, the Weasley family laughing along with him over something she couldn't hear.

Her mind stayed close—she wouldn't let it roam too far right now outside of her own boundaries. With the whispers of what might be happening with the Dark Lord, Lyra couldn't risk a moment of her time. She didn't believe Voldemort was back, but still, she was better safe than sorry right now. Plus, she couldn't focus enough energy on her legilimency now, not when the reason she fought on for so long stood so close—but she couldn't keep that same control with her mouth.